


Daybreak

by Lady_Therion



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Early Mornings, F/M, Lazy Mornings, Morning Cuddles, Morning Kisses, Morning Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 16:24:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14429535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Therion/pseuds/Lady_Therion
Summary: In which Cassian gives Nesta a lovely wake-up call.





	Daybreak

It’s his scent that stirs Nesta. That heady mixture of dark earth, open sky, and woodsmoke. Her eyes flutter open as Cassian plants open-mouthed kisses along the column of her throat, his stubble grazing her skin, his tongue soothing the small hurt.

The sun has barely risen. Frail threads of silver-blue light spool through the gaps between the curtains. In the dimness of their bedroom, Nesta _feels_ Cassian rather than sees him. The shape of him. The weight of him. The heat of him...

His body is curled around hers, spooning her from behind in a liquid embrace. Through the foggy in-between of sleep and wakefulness, she imagines him as a very large plains-cat, lazily grooming his mate inside the safety of their den.

It isn’t until she returns his affection with a faint smile that he begins to kiss her in earnest, his arm winding around her ribs so that he could cup and squeeze her breast. As tired as she is, she arches into his touch, making him growl as he rolls over her, bracing himself on his forearms.

He’s so eager for her this morning. He’s eager for her all the time. It astonishes her; arouses her. The depth of his desire never fails to steal her breath away. He craves her with such intensity, cherishes her with such unquestioning devotion. He gives her his entire heart...

One day, she hopes she’ll be able to tell him with words how much that means to her.

“When did you come home?” she asks, voice husky.

“Just now,” he tells her.

“Just now?”

He surges forward to claim her lips. The kiss is slow and simmering, but passionate. He takes his time. He takes his time because they _have_ time. All the time in the world.

“I missed you,” he says, deepening their kiss.

She responds as in kind, though she knows her movements are still sluggish from sleep. Cassian doesn’t mind. It’s not in his nature to be patient, but he’s patient with her—patient where it matters.

She runs her fingers through his night-dark hair. He purrs as she strokes him with the tips of her fingernails, feeling the muscles of his shoulders ripple all the way to the tips of his wings when she begins to trace the whorls of his tattoos.

Soon his kissing turns to biting. A nibble here. A nibble there. Then his mouth closes over the shell of her ear, his teeth and tongue worrying over the delicate point. When she squirms beneath him, he turns his mischief to her other ear.

She can feel him smile against her skin, gently coaxing her to play.

“The letter you sent yesterday said you were still at the Steppes,” she says.

He makes a distracted, non-committal noise as he tugs on the laces of her nightgown. His gaze is soft, but intent as he unravels her inch by inch.

“You flew all night?” She cups his cheek, swipes a thumb across his jaw.

“Yes,” he says. Then he leans down to kiss her bared breasts. First one, then the other. Teasing the tips into rosy peaks. “I told you I missed you. Want me to prove it?”

“Maybe…”

He smirks as he suckles her, groans as she gasps. He drives his hips into her. His rigid length kindling the most delicious ache between her legs. She feels wet and wanton and wants him to know what he does to her.

So she guides her own fingers into her own hot, slick flesh. One finger, then two. He stills, raising himself up so that he can gaze between their bodies with rapt attention.

“Oh, sweetheart…”

His words are a whisper, a plea, a prayer. A sacred mixture of all three that makes her yearn for more. She rolls her hips, squeezes her eyes shut, chants his name.

Cassian. Cassian. _Cassian_.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he says, panting against her brow. She opens her eyes to see him watching her, pupils blown, drinking her in. “Tell me who makes you _come_.”

“You,” she says. “Only you. Always you.”

“Are you imagining that it’s _my_ fingers inside you?” He asks. “My cock?”

“Yes,” she says.

“If it’s my cock you want, then you’ll have to do better,” he says. “You know I like to fuck you hard and _deep_.” He bares his canines against her neck, dragging his rough tongue across her pulse before he bites down. The sweet and sharp sting of it unleashing something primal in her. “ _Get there_ , sweetheart,” he urges. “I need you to come. I need you _wet_ and soaking for me.”

“I..I...”

“It’s all right if you fall,” he says, nuzzling her, soothing her. “I’ll catch you. I promise.”

“ _Cassian_ …”

“I love you,” he says.

Pure ecstasy floods her veins. She bucks and mewls in a way she knows she’ll be embarrassed about later. Sweat coats both their bodies as she plummets from her blissful high, her heart pounding as Cassian reaches down to grab her fingers.

Then he places them in his mouth, plunging them in and out, savoring her taste. His eyes shuttering as if he’s tasting ambrosia.

“Oh _fuck_ , yes,” he says.

He tears off his loose pants. The tip of his cock jutting out, dripping and glistening with need. The sight of it makes her mouth water. She spreads her legs wide, wanting to be filled, and when he finally, _finally_ thrusts into her, it’s as though their entire being is complete.

Their bond sings like steel on steel.

He grinds down on her, wild and frenzied. She follows his lead, writhing against him. Sweat runs down his muscles as he strains to hold off his peak. He’s so, _so_ close. She can tell by the way he twitches and spasms inside her.

“S’good,” he says. “Sweetheart, you feel so _good_. Too good. I can’t...I don’t want to come yet, but I...I just...oh _gods_...”

He throws his head back, trying in vain to delay the inevitable. But Nesta will have none of it. Her mate gives her the world with every glance, burns her alive with every touch. The very least she can give him is this. So she reaches up, finding the exact spot in the membrane of his wing that will send him reeling. His breath hitches as she circles and circles around it. The strangled noises he makes are divine beyond measure. She takes stock of each one and hoards them away like gold coins.

Then finally, he jerks and falters.

He _comes_. And so does she.

The hoarse and helpless cry he makes will give her wicked dreams for weeks.

He collapses as he spends himself inside her. She holds him in her embrace, letting him ride out the last few waves of their euphoria.

“ _Beloved_ ,” she whispers, holding him tighter when he becomes boneless with exhaustion.

“Nesta,” he says, kissing her wherever he can, whatever patch of skin was nearest. “My Nesta.”

They fall asleep like that, tangled and entwined. Content and at peace in each other’s arms until the sun rose high and golden.


End file.
